The Pink Dress
by CliosLibrarian
Summary: Three shot. Post-Neverland. Smut, angst and fluffiness, in that order. I own nothing but my imagination. Shamelessly Captain Swan, with a little of my favorite BrOTP thrown in as well. Charming is a sucker for true love after all.
1. Chapter 1

**This time I am leading with the smut. Hook and Handcuffs involved, though fairly vanilla**.

Hook appraises the dwarf across from him coolly, stock still in his seat at the table. Only his eyes flicker down to evaluate his cards before his lips curl up in a lazy smile.

"Well?" Leroy asked, eyebrows raising, patience thinning, taking a quick swig of beer from the bottle to his right.

Hook leans forward, about to answer him when suddenly he catches sight of a flash of blond hair walking past him to stop near the bar. Her hair is curled into thick ringlets and it spreads out down her back in a mane. When she turns her body to the left he catches sight of a pink dress that he has never seen before beneath her black wool coat. She does little to conceal it. That would defeat the purpose. She smiles as the bartender slides her a freshly poured shot of tequila, raising her hand to refuse the bowl of limes but grabbing the salt shaker from the counter. Her delicate pink tongue darts out to lick a line above the pad of her thumb and she moves her hand over the floor to shake a helping of salt onto the spot.

"I fold." Hook says as he stands up suddenly and backs his chair up, scraping the legs loudly against the floor. Leroy laughs out loud as he merrily gathers up his winnings from the pile in front of him, seemingly oblivious to the scene behind him. "Pleasure doing business with you Captain!".

The noise had drawn her attention and she turns fully towards him, letting her coat drop open. He starts from the floor, taking in the dangerously tall heels, climbing up her bare legs to the hemline of the dress that perches very high up on her thighs, and sees how the taut fabric stretches across her curves, defining her strong, lithe body and the lushness of her chest.

When their eyes met, he sees the challenge in hers as she suddenly brings her hand up, licking the salt. She then tips back her shot, letting it glide down her throat, licking the remnants off her bottom lip. She all but slams the shot glass down on the counter and then cocks her head to the side slightly in question, smirking at him like a strumpet. He grits his teeth, but masks it with a smile and nods curtly to her, his blood surging through his veins. He walks past her to the rack near the door to gather his leather coat, murmuring good nights to Leroy and to the other patrons along the way. He doesn't look back as he stuffs his arms through the sleeves of his coat and pushes the door open, walking away into the cold, crisp night.

It was a full twenty minutes later as he sits at his desk that he hears her shoes clicking across the deck of his ship and then a knock on his door. "Come on in Swan, lets not stand on ceremony...". He stands up and begins pouring rum into two small glasses he had set out as she enters the room. She kicks off her heels as she eases her coat off her shoulders, letting its weight drop down her arms, catching the material at her hands before turning around to hang it up on the back of the door. All of her movements fluid and purposeful. She shuts the bolt of the door with a loud click, and breathes in and out deeply. When she finally turns around to face him, her walls are up and her smile is predatory, her eyes like flint, unyielding. He feels a shiver work it's way down his spine in anticipation, handing her a glass.

"I see we aren't doing our normal song and dance tonight of fighting and fucking..." He says as monotone as he can manage, undercutting the crassness of the statement. She takes a long moment to relish a sip of her rum.

"No...I figured we could skip all that tonight...I've had a day." She explains wryly, for once not bothering to deny his words. To him, it is a true indication of just how bad a day it has been. It is enough to give him pause.

"Do you want to talk about it?"  
"Do I look like I want to "talk"..." She says, her tone sardonic, as she splays her hands wide, indicating her attire.  
"Fair enough, love..." He sighs at her stubbornness.  
"Not your love." She says in a clipped, automatic way as she places the empty glass down on his desk, punctuating the retort. A lesser man would have flinched, but Hook didn't even blink. Instead, his mouth quirks up in an awful smile.

"You do look especially sinful tonight, Swan... but what if I'm not in the mood?"  
She gives him a skeptical look, then smirks at him. She reaches into the pocket of her coat and draws out her handcuffs, swinging them on her finger playfully.  
"Then I guess I will just have to persuade you."

With that, Hook gives her a smirk of his own, nodding his concession with an expression of surprise. He reaches behind his neck, grasping his shirt collar in his hand and pulls his shirt off of his torso, throwing it to the side. Then, he saunters over to his bed and plops down on his back, his boots propped against the foot of the bed obligingly. Always a gentleman.

"The best part of this particular game love, is that even when I lose, I win."

Taking in the sight of him shirtless in the candlelight, Emma gives a low hum of appreciation as she approaches the bed, still fiddling with the handcuffs. Since they had started their little affair, she has countless times seen the harness that crosses his chest and then down his left arm to secure his hook firmly in place, but it never fails to match her breath catch in sympathy. Knowing that he has no patience for pity, she has to stop herself from sighing out loud, so she forces the air out through her nose and wipes those emotions from her face.

She stops at the side of the bed, smiling and bends at the waist, leaning over him to clasp his right wrist in one side of the handcuffs. She is pleased by the little grunt he lets out as she practically offers up her cleavage for his perusal. She takes advantage of the distraction to secure the other handcuff to the bed post. She takes a bit of rope she found on his desk and ties it to the other post, connecting it through the leather straps below the hook. Not a perfect solution, but it will have to do for tonight.

He quirks an eyebrow at her little improvisation, and settles himself back against the pillows in order to get a better view. She slides her right knee over his other leg, straddling his lap, raising up so that she is towering over him. He can't help but notice that her breasts are right at eye level and he decides to test his boundaries, leaning forward to press a kiss to her cleavage, but she sways back out of his reach. "Uh ugh...you aren't in charge here..." She taunts, as she settles a hand behind her on the bed so she won't fall.

He huffs in annoyance and settles back into the pillows, determined to not let her see how uncomfortable he is at someone else's mercy. She has never let him tie her up, but normally she encourages his more aggressive and dominant tendencies in the bedroom. It made it easier for her to switch off her emotions that way, making it just sex. Or making it easier to pretend it was just sex. He is looking at her appraisingly, wondering what is going on in that head of hers and she simply shrugs at him.

"I figured it was time for me to give you a little payback for all the times you like to rev my engine and then keep me idling..."  
"Sorry?"  
"You know, when you tease me mercilessly...practically making me beg for it."  
"Ah, but you do beg for it lass..."  
"Exactly. This is payback."  
"I fail to see how this is a punishment, but please do continue...in fact, maybe you should just demonstrate since I am am just a simpleminded pirate?"

She quirks her mouth up and leans forward with her right hand out, reaching for his left arm and slides it up until she has a firm grip on his hook. She looks at him steadily, making sure his eyes are on hers, and she jerks her hand to the right quickly, unlatching the hook from its seat. At the loud click, his eyes instantly zero in on the hook, watching warily as she leans back again, sliding the curve of the hook along her arm, raising goose flesh in its wake, until it rests, sharp edge down, right between her breasts.

Despite his attempts to appear nonchalant, Hook's eyes go wide at the sight, and he gasps out loud as she exerts pressure on the hook, dragging it down the front of her dress, tearing it away in a hiss of fabric, all the while staring at his face, greedy for his reaction. And as he follows the hook on its path down her body, he realizes suddenly that she has absolutely nothing on underneath that pink dress. He licks his lips at the sight of her and forgets for a moment that he is in restraints. She lets loose a evil laugh when he lurches forward only to find himself halted and actually growls at her.

He had always immediately removed his hook when they had been intimate in the past, he said for fear of hurting her...but if he was honest, he was more concerned about repulsing her. So, to see her sitting in his lap, confidently wielding his hook, and smiling at him like the cat that stole the canary, well, it did things to him beyond the physical. As if his physical reaction wasn't pronounced enough. He is fit to burst out of his trousers and feeling suddenly very grouchy about having too many clothes on. He shifts around in the bed, trying to rub against her thighs.

Having raised his eyes from the hook to her face, when he suddenly feels the cool press of metal against his stomach, his hips jump off the bed involuntarily.

"I would advise you to stay, very...very still for this"  
"Lass...what.." He starts, as he focuses his eyes on what she is doing with his hook, startled. She begins meticulously gathering the loops of the laces that bind his pants together over the point of his hook, laying it upside down. The lace loops line up, one after the other, stacked in a tight row. He feels the smooth, curved side of his hook press against his sensitive flesh, just when he thought he couldn't get more turned on. He groans as he hardens against the slight pressure she is exerting. She lets the hook linger against his skin, breathing in and out quietly, until she sees a flash of frustration cross his face, and quicker than a bullet, she rips up the hook in one harsh motion, cutting through the laces cleanly. He grunts in surprise, slamming his eyes shut.

Slowly, he opens one eye and then the next to find his pants laying open, and happily, everything in them still intact. He tries for an angry glare, but they both know that he is aroused by the audacity of what she has done.

"Oh come on, like I would damage my favorite "attachment"..." She said, mock offended. He bites down on his bottom lip to keep from laughing out loud, feeling stupidly impressed by his Swan. His devilish and decadent Swan, who was now rubbing her body against his, taking advantage of his lack of mobility and the lack of barriers between them to drive him to the point of insanity. He moans and fights back against her advances, growling under his breath that she better hope he doesn't get loose.

"Hmmmm, what would you do to me...if you could I mean?" She whispers as she kisses a line down his body, from his collarbone, to his chest, to his navel and stopping just short of where he wants her the most. She pauses and looks back up at him, her eyes wide with humor, her body poised on hands and knees, bringing to mind a jungle cat. He certainly felt like prey this evening.

"I would ravish you so thoroughly that you wouldn't be able to walk for days without feeling me, inside you..." He says, with gravel in his voice, knowing what it does to her when he drops his voice low.

"Hmmmm..." She muses as she closes her hand around him, pumping up and down slowly, "You mean with this?"

"Yes, love and ohhhhhh, you little minx...", he cut off when she dips her head down and swirls her tongue against the tip of his cock. He pulls at the restraints again, but they hold firm as she suddenly takes him completely into her mouth all the way to the base and repeats the motion several times so quickly and with such force that he jerks his head back and smacks it against the wall behind him. He groans more from the embarrassment than from the pain.

"Oh ouch...do you want me to kiss it better?" She teases, and rises up again, and scooting her legs over his and before he can respond, she impales herself on his length harshly, drawing a low moan out of both of them. She is so tight and wet around him that he has to hold back a whimper. He swoops forward closer to try to capture her lips but but she averts his kiss by tilting her head down to his neck, dragging her teeth lightly again the tender flesh beneath his ear, as she locks her left arm behind his head. Her right hand sweeps in to grasp at his waist and she begins to rock back and forth, chasing her pleasure.

It doesn't take her long, which he is grateful for since he was completely at the mercy of her momentum, surging his hips up to meet her in a stuttered, sloppy way, all the while looking anywhere but at her face in order to keep his composure long enough to keep from embarrassing himself like a school boy. He is that close, skirting the edge. He immediately senses the shift when she begins to come undone, her movements less assured, her breathing irregular, as her body begins to tremble and tighten, quickening.

She suddenly removes her right hand from his waist and it disappears behind her. She leans in close to his ear and moans, "Come with me..." just as she carefully brings the flat edge of his hook up under their bodies, resting it right against his balls. "Ahhhh, Emma...!" He cries out, utterly and delightfully shocked, as his body obeys her command, releasing into her as she arches her back to meet him, his name coming out in a ragged whisper to the ceiling as her head drops back. She lingers in that position in a long moment, drawing out the sensation, as both of them came back into their bodies and their breathing evens out.

When she finally looks at him, he is staring at her intensely. "Lass, can you?" And he tugs at his restraints again. She smiles sheepishly, tucking her hair behind her ears and is suddenly feeling a bit shy, "Oh...of course!" He smiles openly at her bashful behavior as she works to untangle the rope from his harness and proceeds to unlock the handcuffs.

She reaches behind her and tries to hand him back his hook, smirking at him all the while. He shakes his head, bemused, and indicates with a nod that she should put it back where she found it. She carefully places the hook back in its base, biting her lip as she clicks it home. She is flushed pink from exertion, and she is so focused on her task that she barely notices him shifting his weight as he regains his freedom and his second favorite attachment. She actually yelps when he turns them to the side, bringing them both horizontal onto the bed with a thump, his arms like steel bands around her, pulling her flush to his chest.

"Hook!"  
"Hmmm?"  
"Come on...let me up." She says, growing annoyed.  
"No, I don't think I will."  
"I'm serious." She bit out as she feels the beginnings of a familiar panic, feeling both way too comfortable and at the same time feeling her skin crawl at the intimacy.

"I think you will find that so am I...", he says as he looks at her at last, his own temper starting to simmer. "You can spare a few more moments before you go skulking back to your family wrapped in only your coat." She stiffens at his words, and he pretends not to notice, snuggling even closer, breathing in her scent, knowing the moment is fleeting, but greedy for it just the same. He presses a kiss to her forehead tenderly and she sucks in a breath in surprise.

She was indignant now. " .Go!", she hisses as she begins working her hands in between their bodies so that she can push him away. "Lass, would the stars suddenly fall from the sky if you stayed...just this once?" He says levelly, keeping his voice as matter of fact as possible. "At some point, you will have to stop running from this...from us." In for a penny, in for a pound, he muses.

She starts to protest, to lash out with some insult that would make him angry enough to release her so she can stomp out. But instead she makes the mistake of looking in his eyes, seeing nothing but truth, and realizes that the only liar in this room is her.

"I...I can't...", she admits in a rare moment of vulnerability. Surprised, he stares back at her for a long moment and she doesn't draw breath again until he finally gives her a sad, knowing smile, and lets her go, rolling away from her and giving her space.

"Up you get lass...don't want your loved ones to miss you." He averts his eyes as she gets up from the bed and wraps herself back up into her coat. She pauses at his cabin door, leaning over to blow out the lamp for him. "Goodnight Killian..", she whispers before she slips through the door, and if he hadn't been listening for it, he wouldn't have heard it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Angst and some Charming/Hook BrOTP**.

Prince Charming watched as Emma stepped off the ship and quietly onto the gangplank, carrying her heels in her hand. She glanced around quickly to see if anyone had noticed her before sliding off into the night, heading for home.

He waits until he is sure she is out of sight and sound before he makes his way from the parallel dock and boards the ship, his anger now peaking to a crescendo as he prepares to lay into the Captain of the Jolly Roger. Leroy had called him to say that something was definitely amiss down at the docks, and that he might want to head over there and check it out, being unusually cryptic. Instead, he got an eyeful...his daughter, sneaking off the Jolly Roger in the middle of the night, looking a bit disheveled and upset. The father in him isn't quite sure which of those facts to react to first.

David turns in the direction of the Captain's quarters, but stops suddenly as he notices that Hook is watching him approach, sitting on some crates in the middle of the ship, a bottle of rum in his hand.

"Did I doze off and miss you asking permission to come aboard your royallness, Prince of the sucker punch?" Hook blurts out, annoyed.

David starts to spool up an angry retort when he walks up closer and notices that Hook's eyes look red and shiny. He has bags under his eyes, as though he hasn't slept well in weeks. And it looks as though he has had one shot of rum too many. His expression is about as far from smug as one can get. He looks exhausted, and worse than that, he looks like a man resigned to his fate.

David sits down in a confused huff, the wind gone right out of his sails, silently trying to decide what to say. He feels his indignant rage blow away leaving him feeling uneasy, and unsure how to proceed. In the end he decides to focus on the man beside him.

Hook refuses to meet his gaze when he says, "If you are looking for Emma, you just missed her, your majesty...she never stays."

David almost winced at the hurt in his voice, it was unmistakable. He sat silently for several long moments before deciding that he had to push the issue.

"Why do you let her do this?"

Hook quirks an eyebrow at the question, clearly not expecting it and hesitates, letting the moment hang. Normally, he would bristle and deny what the prince had implied. But tonight, he finds that he just doesn't have the energy.

"I could lie and tell you its just the sex that I am after, but the truth is...I'll take her anyway I can get her."

David groans internally, as his suspicions are confirmed. Captain Hook is in love with his daughter! What the hell was he going to do with that? Snow was going to blow a fuse. He wants to laugh out loud at the absurdity of it, but he recognizes a man in earnest when he sees one. And really, he muses, they all should have seen it coming.

"And that's enough for you?"

Finally, Hook turns to really look at the Prince, puzzled by his question and his tone, surprised by the empathy he finds there.

"Kind of a strange question coming from you, if you don't mind me saying..."  
"Trust me, I know...but as your friend...you of all people, letting her use you?"

Hook looks well and truly startled.  
"I wasn't aware that you thought of me as a friend."  
"Believe me, I am just as surprised as you are. It snuck up on me...right around the time you came out of the woods carrying my grandson over your shoulder."

"You don't owe me anything David."  
"That's not how I see it. And don't think that I don't know that you are just trying to avoid my question."

Hook lets out an exasperated sigh then, realizing that Emma must get her tenacity and stubbornness from her father's side of the family.

"She isn't using me, not really. She...cares. It's just all she has left to give. I am her escape. She told me as much the first night she came to me. She thinks she has to be the perfect mother, the perfect daughter, the perfect Sheriff...I mean she is literally a bloody princess as well as being the savior!"

David balks at his words, "We only want her to be happy...to be a family. We have no expectations!"

"Aye, but people like me and Emma...we don't know how to be part of a family. It's a happy thought, but the day to day reality can be a little daunting. When you have always had to do everything yourself, to survive...it's difficult letting others come into close orbit. She is merely coping the only way she can. And as for me...well, fighting isn't always a frontal assault..."

David feels stunned as he whispers, "All these weeks I thought that you were to blame for her nervousness and her melancholy...when it was us all along. We are making her miserable! Smothering her..."

"No David, she loves you and Snow and Henry. She just hasn't figured out how to be with you yet. She has some ideal notion of what a family should be. Unfortunately for me, there is no room for Captain Hook in that portrait." He says with a rueful smile and a shrug, as though he would never expect a different outcome.

David turns his head away and looks out to sea then, as he thinks about this man who they all had discounted, who spent 300 years dedicated to avenging his lost love, only to give it up for the sake of his new love and her family. He suddenly saw with utter clarity that he was perfect for Emma, who had been left behind, always for her own good, by everyone who had ever loved her. This man would never do that. This man would fight for her. This man would die for her. He smiles then, thinking that fate has a sick sense of humor. Ugh, did it really have to be a pirate?

He stands up suddenly, mischief on his mind, and makes his way back to the gangplank to leave, slapping the pirate on the back encouragingly, but perhaps a little harder than necessary, earning a grunt of surprise and another quizzical look.

"Maybe not...but perhaps there's just enough room for Killian Jones."

And with that, he leaves the ship to head home and have a chat with his wife.


	3. Chapter 3

**There be fluff here...stay puft marshmallow types of fluff**.

Emma races up the steps, taking them two at a time, a plastic bag full of raspberries and blackberries from the grocery store swinging wildly. She is late, again. She bursts into the door, muttering apologies only to stop short at the sight before her. They have started without her, which on its own wouldn't be so bewildering, but seated at the opposite end of the table from David was none other than Captain Hook. He smiles widely, giving her a little wink as as he notices her look of dismay.

"What is he doing here?"  
"Emma! Manners!" Mary Margaret admonishes, doing her best to look scandalized but failing to suppress her laughter.

"Henry and I ran into Killian in town and asked him to join us." David explains quickly, and Henry gives her a little nod, almost on cue. Her spider senses start tingling, but she doesn't let it show on her face. They were up to something. Her mind is now racing.

"It's not a problem is it lass?" Hook asks, letting the slightest bit of doubt leak into his tone. "Ah, no...it's just, Sunday dinner is usually just us. I was just...I just wasn't expecting it." She says, gritting her teeth and plastering a smile of politeness on her face.

"Well, come sit and eat before it gets cold. You have had a long day I am sure." Her mother says gently, motioning to the empty seat right next to Hook. Emma quirks an eyebrow at her, but says nothing as she drops her bag on the counter and moves over to the table. As she pulls out her chair to sit, both Hook and her father rise up from the table out of habit. She laughs in surprise. "Always a gentleman, huh?"

"Always." Hook says with a small smile, as they all sit back down and settle in.

"Anyway Killian, like I was saying...you aren't really a pirate anymore." Henry states with conviction.

"I have to disagree with you lad...and so will the rest of this table." He says it lightheartedly for the boy's sake, but he steals a quick glance towards Emma. Her discomfort at the choice of conversation is obvious.

"Maybe you were a pirate...but you aren't anymore!" Henry says right before stuffing another forkful of spaghetti in his mouth.  
"Henry, once a pirate..."  
"Yeah, but you don't do piratey things. You don't pillage and murder and all of that stuff. I mean, you wear jeans now and ride a motorcycle! You helped bring me home, and you helped find my Dad! A pirate wouldn't do those things!" He says earnestly.

Hook tries to not smile at him and fails miserably. "Henry, the few things that I have done to help don't outweigh all of the bad things I have done over the years. I was a thief and I have killed people...I have done terrible things in the name of revenge...and rage." He adds very seriously, not wanting the boy to romanticize and build him up to be something he can never be. He is no hero.

"Snow was a thief when we first met." David says suddenly, drawing a sharp chuckle from his wife. Emma narrows her eyes at her father when she sees him wink at her mother, suspicious of his sudden interjection, but finds herself grateful for the transition to a safer topic.

"And so was Emma!" Henry says excitedly, and with more pride in his voice than Emma is comfortable with. "Henry, really!" She protests, a blush tinting her cheeks.

"Aye, but your grandmother and mother had little choice in becoming thieves. It was from pure necessity. They did what they had to do, whereas I jumped into being a pirate with both feet, my boy. But that is a story for another day...when you are much older." He adds quickly with a smirk, heading off Henry's questions. Henry gives him a full on pout then, drawing laughter from all the adults at the table.

Henry smiles slyly at his mother before leaning closer to Hook, telling him in a mock whisper, "Emma was a bounty hunter when I found her in Boston."

Hook's eyes widen in delighted surprise. "Really!? I knew you were a tough lass, but this just keeps getting better and better!" Emma rolls her eyes, but feels a little surge of pride at his words.

"And you know she is the Sheriff here, which makes her the law." Henry continues, gushing about Emma, and she flushes an even deeper shade of red, embarrassed to be the main subject of conversation.

"Yes, well...I knew she was brilliant from the first. She took me for the liar that I was in 5 minutes flat. She got us the compass and saved both our lives from the wrath of an angry giant!" Hook adds with a dramatic flourish to his voice, pounding his right hand on the table for emphasis.

"Oh come on, Anton is hardly terrifying..." Emma argues, smiling.  
"Not since he met you certainly...you saw past his rage to the source of his pain, and showed him compassion that no one else had..." Hook says earnestly, stopping suddenly and biting his bottom lip as if he hadn't meant those words to escape, and she realizes he wasn't just talking about Anton anymore.

Her eyes widen and she loudly plunges her fork into her pasta and begins eating again, trying to avoid having to speak. Snow and David share a sneaky smile before Henry veers off to another tangent, asking about the things he should learn to be a proper prince.

She sits quietly, listening as her father and Hook banter and brag about their sword fighting skills. She listens as Snow tells Henry some stories about what happened on the ship to come get him...Regina's horrible seasickness and Gold's childish pranks. There is also some brief mention of a merman picking a fight with the wrong savior, another story whose details are promised to be revealed when Henry is older, much to his chagrin.

She finds that her tension is melting away the longer she sits there. She looks across the table to see her mother and father smiling at each other. And then she looks at Henry, as he listens to a story about the fairies, looking up at Hook like he hung the moon and stars himself and she knows with all certainty that she has been set up. Her own family has set her up! As the realization sets in her eyes widen and she looks back at Hook, who quirks his mouth and shrugs his shoulders sheepishly, confirming her suspicions.

Suddenly everything falls into place. Obviously, her parents know about her and Hook! And Henry, well, he always sees and understands more than he should at his age. The impromptu invitation to dinner, sharing stories, the fact that suddenly everyone but her is calling him Killian...they were trying to tell her that it was okay. That it was going to be okay. She gasps as hot tears suddenly spill down her cheeks, the emotions that she has been stuffing down for weeks, months really, overwhelming her.

"Emma, what's wrong?" Snow asks, alarmed to find her daughter crying soundlessly at the table, but when Emma looks at her, she is smiling through her tears. She shakes her head and smiles again, embarrassed, as she excuses herself from the table.

She escapes to the kitchen sink to calm down and to splash some water on her face. When she turns around, she finds that her family has made themselves scarce, the cowards...leaving her and Hook alone. He looks so concerned and remorseful that it makes her her ache, and something inside her gives way. Before he can say anything, she raises a trembling hand to stop him.

"I...am an idiot." She says as she walks over to him.

He looks confused at first, but then she takes his hand and his hook in her hands and the realization dawns on his face that she is done with running, with holding him at bay. His relief is palpable, and she watches as his whole stance relaxes. His smile widens playfully, drawing her into his arms and pressing a kiss to her forehead fondly. "Only when it comes to me, my love."

She takes a deep cleansing breath, and blows it out with emphasis, still feeling a bit unsteady from her tears. She leans into his chest and wraps her arms around him tightly, feeling grateful that he has proven himself to be even more stubborn than her. She lifts her head and presses her lips to his, softer than a feather, but heavy with meaning. It is the first time she actually initiates a kiss with him, surrendering finally, unafraid.

"Where did they run off to?" She asks finally as they stand there, just staring at each other after their first real kiss. He chuckles then, and and points up.

"They mentioned that it was our job to make dessert...and then they ran out of here like the room was on fire." He tells her, amused at their antics.

"Well, I don't really have a recipe...and I normally use canned fruit and pre-made crust, which the store doesn't stock. But I suppose it will be even better if we start from scratch, and make it up as we go along?" She says, pulling back a bit to look at him, a challenge in her eyes.

"Yes, I have found that to be true for most things in life," he says pointedly as he rubs calming circles into her back. She gives him a genuine smile then, and it lights up her whole face. To him, it feels as warm as the midday sun.

"Well then, we should get started...you aren't getting any younger, old man!" She says as she sneaks her hand down to pinch his ass.  
"Oi...I'll wager I can keep up with you well enough!"  
"See that you do..."

And he did.


End file.
